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Assuming I make it about five more hours, I will have accomplished the feat of not shaving during the entire month of November. The sweet irony of this achievement is that it actually took less effort to do than if I had lived a normal, clean-shaven November.

Like this:

A while back I dreamed that some guy was moving to Japan and wanted to trade me his car for Mildred (the “stunning silver” (Nissan’s name for the color) Altima that I drive). We made the deal, then I found out that his car ran on diesel, and I got really mad. But he was in Japan so I couldn’t do anything about it.

Like this:

I’ve got this old car battery I need to get rid of. I would throw it in the trash, but I don’t think you’re supposed to put car batteries in there, because it could explode and hurt a garbage man. There’s a pretty big river near here, as well as some ponds. Is it better to toss it into one of those, or leave it in a forest somewhere? If you know please help!

Like this:

I’m exhausted. My body aches. I can’t sleep at night. My beard appears to be sucking the life from my body. It’s growing stronger at the expense of my own strength. When I eat a sandwich, it’s really my beard eating a sandwich. The nutrients bypass my malnourished organs and are instead delivered to my facial hair. This beard has turned my own digestive system against me. I’ll be glad when I can get this thing off my face (that’s what she said).